Her Question, His Response
by Perydot
Summary: There weren't many times Erwin Smith went against his word. Then again, there weren't many times he cried.
1. Chapter 1

It was dark in his hospital room. The only light came from the moonlight seeping through the white curtains. It was well passed midnight, but he couldn't sleep. Not that he would when she was in the room. Not that he would when he was bent over, his tall and built body awkwardly angled to be somewhat on her level. Not that he would be when his head resting against her shoulder. Not that he would be when he was leaving her yellow shirt wet with his quiet tears, her hand threaded in his usually neat hair.

He didn't like to dwell on it - he didn't _want to_ dwell on it. He wished he could wake up every day, carefree, without remembering the cruel nature of his job. He thought that he was over how brutish his job made him be. He knew that people considered him willing to sacrifice any and everything to further humanity's cause. He was, but to deal with the consequences afterward was something he wasn't willing to do.

Walking through the often times cold hallways of the Scouting Regiment's headquarters reminded him of the sacrifices he's made. The proud and determined faces of the subordinates he had seen grow and rise in rank - the faces he wanted to remember - were replaced with the sad and terrorized faces of ones facing certain death. He never really wanted to look at their dead bodies - he didn't want to see how far these proud and strong soldiers had fallen - but he always ended up staring at each of their faces. He would remember the conversations they would have, however short, remember them talking about their dreams and hopes and families and whatever else seemed important or unimportant or just a topic of conversation.

That was the part that killed him the most. Remembering that they were people that had dreams and hopes. Dreams of a family of their own. Dreams of a happy life once they were far enough along in the regiment. Dreams of a life without the terror of Titans (though, that was a dream for many, if not all). Hopes that they could have children and see them grow up. Hopes that they could live to old age. Hopes that they could live at all.

"Do you ever cry?" was her question.

"No," was his answer.

"I mean for the soldiers that die in the field."

"No," he answered again.

"It's not healthy to keep it in."

"Did you come to lecture me?" was his response, a bit unlike himself. Maybe it was the lack of sleep getting to him. She didn't say anything for a few quiet moments. They were sitting side by side on the edge of his bed. She had come and visited him for a reason he didn't really know. She was an unpredictable woman, he knew. One minute she would bouncing with excitement and enthusiasm; the next she would be quiet and thoughtful. One minute her eyes would be alight with her unbridled exhilaration; the next they would be subdued with her introspective musings. She was a sort of wild child with a streak of rationality. "Hanji?" he said after the quiet stretched for a few more awkward seconds.

"He's dead, you know," she whispered. He nodded, although he was sure she didn't notice. "How will we ever know when someone is taking shit within a 10 meter radius?" she asked, her joke falling flat as he heard the very sad tone of her voice.

"We won't," was his simple reply.

"Will you cry for him?" she asked after a moment's pause.

"No."

"You should."

"It would be unfair to all the others who have died."

"So what?"

"Hanji."

"Cry. It helps. It'll help you."

"And what if it doesn't?"

"It will."

"You're so certain about that," he laughed.

"When am I not certain about something, Erwin?"

"Almost never."

"Right. So, cry."

He did.


	2. Chapter 2

At first he was crying for Mike Zacharius, his longtime friend and companion in the regiment. At first he was mourning the loss of someone that he was sure he could never replace. But now he was crying for all the people he had lead to their terror and tear-filled deaths.

Being commander was an incredibly tough job. No wonder Shadis had gone back to mentoring the trainees. The small payoff of finding out something new or proving that the regiment was, in fact, needed was _very_ small when the number of deaths under his belt grew with every expedition. As if those disappointed stares and disrespectful comments from the people weren't enough.

Leading them to their death wasn't the worst part of it, Erwin was surprised; remembering was. Remembering how bright the soldiers' faces would light up; remembering their petty squabbles of who took whose bread when the other one wasn't looking; remembering their quiet jokes about the corporal's size; remembering their confused and concerned faces when Hanji would burst into the mess hall, excitably telling Erwin (but really anyone with a working ear or two) about the results of her new experiment. It would've made him smile… except that he remembered that they were dead and buried in the ground or crushed into an unrecognizable pulp or split into random pieces of limbs and flesh or burned after being regurgitated by those _terrible_, _terrible_ creatures.

It wasn't like him to show emotions past the small, polite smile that adorned his face. It felt… odd to him. He hadn't cried in years, unless he counted the times he cried laughing. Like the times when one of Levi's shit jokes really got to him or when Hanji had come into his office with her white pants riddled with yellow liquid that made it look like she had pissed herself or when Mike had a cold that made it impossible for him to smell anything and he pouted about it for a whole week.

He had avoided crying for the longest time. He thought that it would bring up bad memories and make him feel terrible. He wasn't wrong.

"I don't feel better," he murmured.

"You will," Hanji whispered back. Her hand fell from his hair to his back, rubbing slow circles into it.

"Are you sure that this even works?"

"Are you questioning me _again_?"

"Yes."

"You trust me when I say whatever random thing I usually say, but you can't trust me on this one thing, Erwin?"

"I feel terrible," he simply replied.

"So did I and so did Levi."

"Levi? You told him to cry and he did? You're more powerful than I thought," he laughed. His head shook a little when Hanji giggled. It broke him away from the memories that were reforming in his head. Her giggle sounded carefree and nice, and he wanted to hear it again, many times over.

"You've been underestimating me all this time?"

"Maybe."

"Hmph! Maybe I should go and comfort someone who believes in me." He lifted his head and looked at her. "Oh, don't look at me that way! I won't leave you…" The smile that was on her lips fell and her eyes fell down to Erwin's shoulder. "Not if I can help it…"

"Could you?" Erwin asked as he continued to look at her. His voice sounded a bit desperate.

Her eyes flicked back to his face for a second. "...maybe."


	3. Chapter 3

He stared at her for a long moment as she continued to stare at his shoulder. "That's the thing you aren't certain about?"

"It's hard to be certain about something like that when _this_—" Hanji gestured to everything around the two of them "—is our job." Erwin nodded with a bit of a smile. "It's not that I'm being a pessimist like Levi. Boy, is he a depressing! He even brought my mood down!"

"He doesn't do that already?"

"Eh, well…" she giggled. Erwin smiled when he heard her laugh. "I have a high tolerance for his pessimistic…ness? Pessimisity?"

"That's not a word."

"It should be; it fits the sentence perfectly."

"That's not how words work, Hanji."

"Then it should be." Erwin just smiled and shook his head. "Anyway, I'm not being a pessimist like Levi. It's just hard to look into the future and say that I won't end up dead and eaten by a Titan. Maybe one of my test subjects really will end up biting my head off!"

"...don't talk like that."

"Oh, am I being too much like Levi right now? Maybe that little shorty rubbed off on me. He didn't really touch me, though. And he even slapped my hand away when tried to rub his back… the first time at least. You're much easier to be affectionate with, you know. Especially since you only have one arm to attack me with."

"You came in here to comfort me, and you take a jab at me only having one arm?"

"Well, I wanted to make you cry. Remember? Maybe making a comment about your arm - well, lack thereof - could make you cry."

"Do you think I'm so sensitive?"

"Do you think I'm so weak?"

Erwin smirked. "Maybe, maybe not."

"Then maybe I think you're sensitive, maybe not. We'll never know. Oh, actually you won't know; I will. It would be weird if _I_ didn't know, right?"

"It would be weird if you did anything, Hanji."

She gasped and put a hand to her chest. "I'm _so_ hurt!" She gasped again, "Maybe I am weak…"

"Do you really have to joke like that?"

"Do you really have to make a comment about me being unexpectedly strong?"

"Do you really have to ask questions just like me?"

"Do you—"

"Hanji."

She laughed. "Oh, did that get to you? Maybe only having one arm has really gotten to you…" Erwin gave her an annoyed look, but smiled anyway. "Well, it seems like you're feeling less terrible." She raised her to his face, slowly wiping his stubbly cheeks of the tears that stained them. He stared at her while she gently wiped his face. It was just her being friendly, but it felt oddly romantic.

"I guess you were right."

"When am I not right?"

"Almost never."

"Right, just like how I'm always certain."

"_Almost_ always."

"Almost always, always, whatever," she said with the wave of a hand. She pushed Erwin back a little now that she was down wiping his face. He sat up to his full height and stretched a little. Hanji was quite a bit shorter than him, so it was awkward to lean down to her height. "That just means you shouldn't question me."

"It's a part of my job to question you, Hanji."

"Erwin…"

* * *

"Do you ever cry?" was her question.

"No," was his response.

Just tonight, he went back on his word.


End file.
